Loving the Beast
by GriffinsLove
Summary: The tale as old as time re-imagined with a modern-day Phantom of the Opera. Christy has sold her life away in an attempt to save her father's life, she didn't expect to find true love in the arms of a reclusive, musical genius. Some BDSM undertones.
1. Chapter 1

This is it. Her last month before she sells herself into a life of misery for the sake of her father. Christy downed her third glass of champagne for the evening before once again removing her fiance's hand from her back again. She smiled her empty smile at the frivolous conversation between some governor - or was it a senator? - his mistress, and Raoul's entourage.

How many of these ridiculously vain banquets had she been to since entering this horror story? Each evening was a different excuse for Raoul to dress her up and parade her around his political friends in an attempt to worm his way into a party nomination. God she hated him. She hated the expensive dresses, his touch, his constant attempts to bed her, his idiotic conversation, the sight of his plaster smile. All of it. Most of all she hated herself.

_This is for father._ Christy reminded herself in a desperate attempt to survive one more evening. Scanning the venue for the waiter with the champagne, she wrenched herself away from Raoul with an excuse to find a bathroom. She grabbed two glasses and slipped down a dark hallway away from the party.

"Well, this is beautiful!" She exclaimed after gulping down one glass of champagne and setting it on the marble tile next to the wall. She turned a corner, following the beautiful paintings away from the dreadful party. Another corner and the sounds of the party faded away and for a moment she felt her life was her own again.

The only light in the dark hallway came from a small window. Drinking the last of the champagne she peered out at the stars and dared to dream of a life that was her own. With a sigh she set the empty glass down on the windowsill. She hung her head in a moment of surrender. A life for a life, that was the deal.

In this moment of pure vulnerability, she was too lost in herself to hear the soft click of a door closing or the soft sound of leather on marble. No, she heard nothing and found herself unable to scream when a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her covering her mouth and keeping her from doing anything but kicking her legs out in an attempt to wiggle free.

In a flash of flailing limbs and dark velvet, Christy was squashed against the deep maroon painted wall by her captor. There was a blast of musky air and a dizzying smell of spicy cologne before her captor quickly flipped her so her back was pressed against the wall. Her blue eyes were slammed shut in an attempt to hide her fear and panic.

"So Raoul has a sent a spy to sneak around my home in search of secrets?" A dark, orotund voice whispered menacingly in her ear. Yet at her hip she felt a soft reassuring pulse as his hand gently squeezed her, surprising her eyes open. To her amazement she found herself no longer in the dark hallway, but in a dungeonesque, stone-walled room with flaming wall sconces pinned to a painted wall by a tall dark figure. A dark figure wearing a white mask that revealed only a strong jaw and glowing green eyes. His hand pulsed again as he removed the other from her mouth only to quickly press against her bare shoulder.

"Well?" His voice was commanding, terrifying, and for some reason warming her belly.

"I- I'm not- I was just looking-" She stuttered out at the masked man.

"Don't lie to me!" His voice swelled as he pressed her shoulder harder against the wall, but pulsed again at her hip soothing her. She winced away from him- half from fear and half from the warm feeling rising in her. "I know you are his **fiancee**." He practically spat hate in her ear.

_Pulse._

"I'm not a spy!" She cried turning to look deep into his eyes, feeling tears welling in her own. _Why wouldn't he just leave her alone?_

_Pulse_.

Suddenly her head snapped back against the wall as he slammed his lips against her in a brutal kiss. Maybe it was the kiss or maybe it was the knock on her head but she saw sparks of light and her head began to spin. How long had it been since she had last known a man's touch- besides that of the repulsive Raoul?

_Pulse_.

Her captor pulled from the kiss and brought his lips to the shell of her ear. "I have spies of my own." He placed a gentle, fleeting pec on the spot just below her ear.

_Is that blood?_ She tasted the coppery tang as she licked her lip, savoring his flavor. It had been four years at least. First she had been caring for her mother in the hospital, after she passed Christy was too consumed by loss to even look at a man. Then her father fell ill and Raoul had called her with his offer.

_Pulse_.

"I know it's all a farce." His voice called her back to the dungeon and the velvet she now clutched in her fingers as he kissed and nibbled his way down her throat.

_Pulse_.

"I've seen how you loathe his company- his touch." He sneered before lathing the crux of her neck.

"I don't-"

"Don't lie to me!" He thundered as he pulled away, letting go of her shoulder to grasp her jaw in a punishing grip. Her eyes met his, the blue clouded by the feelings overwhelming her.

_Pulse_.

"I know everything." His grip loosened.

_Pulse_.

"I know about your father, the sham relationship…" His lips fell upon hers once more, this time softer, his tongue slipping into her- tasting her blood.

_Pulse_.

She crushed him to her, silently begging for more. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he smiled against her lips. He released her chin and trailed his finger down the deep V of her dress only to rise and grasp her breast roughly causing her to gasp.

_Pulse_.

"Has he ever touched you this way?" His fingered circled her nipple through the soft chenille of her expensive dress.

"No." She breathed.

_Pulse_.

"Good." His answer was curt, but she couldn't help the swell of joy in her chest at the thought of pleasing this stranger. She felt rather than saw his eyes on her, watching her before falling to her neck again.

_Pulse_.

"Who are you?" She gasped as pleasured surged through her.

"Can't you guess?" He chuckled before gently biting her ear.

_Pulse_.

"I don't know." She managed to get out before moaning her pleasure. He growled, his hand leaving her breast to grab her leg and guiding her to wrap it around his waist. The high slit at the thigh ripped waking Christy from her haze.

In a moment she realized the situation she was in and began to resist him, violently thrashing against the body that now pinned her to the wall. What the hell was she doing? Making out with some stranger that knows her secret and could ruin everything!

_Pulse_.

"Calm yourself!" His voice was loud and commanding again. She could feel his chest vibrate with each word.

"Get off me!" She yelled.

_Pulse_.

He let her down slowly, leaving his left hand at her hip. Christy's arms immediately crossed over her chest in an attempt to protect her modesty from the man who had just done what her fiance had not been allowed to.

"Let me go." She said weakly, unable to meet his eyes. _Expensive shoes_, she noted. "I have to get back to the party or they'll start looking for me."

_Pulse_.

"Come with me." He entreated her with a kind voice. Her eyes raised and saw a softness in the green depths.

"I can't." Her eyes darted away.

_Pulse_.

"Leave with me now and with one call I will transfer your father to my private residence where he can continue treatment under my protection." His tone was business-like, but his lips gently brushed against her neck.

_Pulse_.

"He'll find me. He always finds me." She whispered. His lips grew firmer and she couldn't help the moan that slipped from her lips as his tongue darted out to lick up the artery of her neck.

_Pulse_.

"Leave with me now and we'll be married before he even knows you're gone." He whispered across her heated skin. Her hands turned to press against his shoulders but betrayed her by pulling him closer.

_Pulse_.

"Leave with me and I'll make you feel like this every day."

_Pulse_.

"Leave with me and you can live the life you want- we can even get a divorce after your father's health returns." His right hand returned to her breast squeezing and kneading. Christy's eyes rolled back as pleasure rocked her body.

_Pulse_.

"Say yes." He pleaded, his voice dripping over her.

"Why?" She moaned. This caused him to pause. His right hand grasped her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

"Because I want to take what Raoul desires from him. And he desires you more than anything else." His eyes were bright with a fire that scared her. "This can be a pleasurable arrangement for you." His thumb stroked her cheek.

_Pulse_.

"Leave with me and you will have all the freedom you would have been denied in your marriage to Raoul." His hands fell from her completely, and she shuddered at the cold that replaced the heat of his touch.

She looked at him. He was a stranger, a stranger who saw her as a pawn he could punish Raoul with. He was giving her a choice.

"My father will be safe?"

"On my life, I swear that your father will receive the exact same treatments he is receiving now, but safely in my private residence." He paused, trying to read her reaction. "You would, of course, be living in the same home after a short honeymoon." He saw her eyes brighten, giving away her silent decision. He offered his hand to her.

Christy gazed down at his hand. _I could be trading one devil for another._ Hesitantly she slipped her slight hand into his large one. Blue met green for one tremulous moment before he turned and quickly dragged her through the stone hallway.

_Oh God, what have I done?_


	2. Chapter 2

_Note: I do not own the characters, but the story is my own._

The masked man before her was striding down the cold stone hallway and Christy was being dragged behind him. The three inch stilettos Raoul had insisted she wore that evening were threatening to prevent her escape. Without warning, her masked man stopped causing her to collide into his solid form. Before she could say anything the stone wall retracted and slid away revealing a black sedan awaiting them with an open door.

Swiftly, and rather gentlemanly, her captor-turned-savior scooped her up and got her seated before moving in next to her. The second the door closed the car began to drive to the next secret destination. Christy wanted to ask where they were going, but her stranger was on the phone, presumably getting his plan into action.

After about ten minutes of listening to his grumbling voice she began to get cold feet. What was she doing? She had no idea who this guy was! At least she knew what a scumbag Raoul was from their time in high school together. She could very well have just run off with the devil himself.

He must have felt the anxiety rising, because he reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. The warmth soothed her nerves, but the gentle squeeze he began to pulse like before brought back the heat he stirred in her. Suddenly the car stopped and he yanked her out, shaking the hand of a middle aged man in a robe and slippers standing on the driveway of a beautiful colonial house.

"Richard, this is Christine Daae," Christy looked at him stunned by his use of her full name, "my friend Nadir Khan, and his son Bahram." The masked man said gesturing to the man and teenager exiting the car to join them.

"Who-?" Christy began to ask, but quickly found the tennager- Bahram shoving a bouquet of white roses into her hands. Her mouth fell open in surprise; this man had really thought of everything.

The next few moments went like a blur. There was a short exchanging of vows...she thought. They were back in the car and driving down the road when she realized there was a silver band on her finger where the previous gaudy engagement ring had been. Where was that ugly thing?

"Wait!" She squeaked as she saw the gold and diamond sparkle fly out the window as her...well, husband, flicked it out of the car like a piece of trash.

His eyes flicked to her telling her in an instant not to argue with him. He must have really hated Raoul to throw a million dollar ring out on the road. That ring could have easily paid off all of her debts...if Raoul hadn't done so already.

"What about my father?" She began fidgeting in her nervous realization that her father was still in Raoul's clutches. The masked man glanced at her before reaching into a briefcase and removing several documents and a pen.

"Your father is already at my private residence and will be awaiting you upon our return from our short honeymoon." The way he spoke everything seemed like a command and brooked no argument. "Sign these and we will have your name changed immediately which will hinder Mr. Chagney's search for you and your father." She looked at him with panicked eyes, was there really a need to hide? "Mr. Chagney is a vicious man that will do anything to get his revenge once he realizes what you've done."

"What I've done." She quietly repeated to herself. She looked at her hands studying the stunningly delicate carved band. "What have I done?" She asked herself, feeling the tears welling up. She looked to her husband for some sort of reassurance that she had not made a mistake only to find him staring at his phone intently.

"What **have** I done?" She looked at him intently. His eyes peaked at her for a moment before returning to his phone.

"That is a foolish question for a smart girl; you married me." His words cut deep. Who was this man that presumed to know her so well?

"And **who** the hell did I marry?!" Now she was upset and the anxiety began to creep back up on her.

"Erik Tolbert." Two words could not have scared her more. Erik was allegedly a genius, a philanthropist, and an eccentric...one that no one had ever seen except for a solitary short video that had been leaked to a TV station showing him masked and in a wild rage as he degraded one of the opera singers in one of his famous operas. This was a volatile man that she knew next to nothing about.

There was a pregnant silence before she could finally wrap her mind around his name- her name. Part of her wanted to run, tell them to pull over and just run. She knew she couldn't, he may be a beast, but he now held her father's life in his hands. She took a deep breath and swallowed her fear. No matter how the tabloids portrayed him, there was no way it was the whole story.

"Who **is** Erik Tolbert?" She asked as she glanced out of the corner of her eyes at him. He didn't seem wild, in fact he had been quite composed and extremely prepared.

"Now **that** is the kind of question I expected from a high school teacher." He turned to look at her. His approval brought that warm feeling back. Why had his approval immediately meant so much to her? He was nothing more than a stranger.

He shifted to sit closer to her, grasping her left hand in his right. He squeezed reassuringly before raising her hand and gently brushing his lips against her skin. "This ring was my mother's." He announced before squeezing her hand again. It was that gentle soothing pulse again that calmed her nerves.

With his left hand he smoothed her hair off of her neck. She felt a blush begin a climb up her chest and neck. "Why would you give me your mother's ring?" Her voice cracked as his soft lips pressed against her throat.

He softly sighed and rested his forehead against her shoulder. She tensed unsure of what his reaction would be. "You are the only woman I will ever marry."

_Pulse_.

There was that squeeze again. Was he trying to avoid answering her question? Did she care? Why did his touch always elicit this undeniable desire to be anything he wanted? Did she care what his answer was? _No, as long as he keeps touching me._

_Pulse._

"This can be a truly good relationship, meeting both our needs. If it does not meet your needs you are free to leave- after one year." He whispered into her shoulder.

_Pulse_.

His hand left hers and traveled to her thigh, slipping beneath the torn midnight blue fabric. Christy sighed and her head fell back against the leather seat as calloused fingers trailed up her milky thighs. He squeezed her thigh and she couldn't stop the moan that slipped out.

"I can satisfy you in ways Raoul never could." He nibbled her neck.

"You don't have to convince me, you already got me to marry you."

_Pulse_.

He groaned his lust before biting her shoulder. She hissed at the pain only to moan as he soothed the bite with his tongue.

"Did he ever touch you?" His grip on her thigh tightened and she knew it would leave a mark.

"Don't you already know?" She groaned, frustrated that he wasn't doing more.

"Say it." He demanded, his grip growing stronger. She wriggled in discomfort but felt herself growing wet.

"He never touched me!" She moaned, "He never got farther than a peck on the cheek." He returned to suckling her neck. His hand crept higher before pausing to give another bruising squeeze.

Christy cried out in pain, but licked her lips at the ensuing pleasure that filled her. She wanted Erik more than she had wanted anything in her whole life. "Please!" She begged, helplessly panting at the feelings that were threatening to consume her. He had only kissed her! This man had barely touched her and she was begging for him like a slut.

He chuckled softly, "Am I a better kisser than him?" His left hand slid up her waist to grip the shoulder strap of her dress. She shivered in anticipation.

"God yes!" She moaned as the strap slowly shifted off her shoulder. "I would never let Raoul touch me like this." His thumb traced circles around her hardened nipple as he squeezed her thigh once more.

"And you never will." He whispered into her ear.

_Pulse_.

Her eyes locked with his, "Never." She promised before slamming her mouth against his, her hands reaching up to grip his head.


	3. Chapter 3

_Now we delve into Erik's intentions and actions..._

Erik groaned at the feeling of his beautiful wife's thin fingers scraping his scalp. She was his, and would only ever be his. She would be the one thing that would be his and his alone. This seemingly innocent school teacher had a fiery passion within her. He knew she was perfect when he saw her at his opera two months earlier.

In an attempt to learn more about the "wholesome" relationship that seemed to spring up overnight, he gave Chagney and his fiancee the box across from his own. He watched them intently upon their arrival at the opera. She gracefully avoided his lingering touches, smiled with dead eyes, and removed herself from Chagney's presence every moment she could. When the opera started, the depth of her passion was revealed. He watched in fascination as she was overcome by the movements. It was as if the emotions he poured into his compositions were pouring out into her so that she could be the expression of his very heart and soul. She may have worn the ring of another man, but she was built to be his woman.

The blonde young woman had milky skin and deep blue eyes. She was wearing an atrocious black dress designed to reveal as much of her lithe body as possible. He could tell she detested the clothing by the way she kept trying to cover herself. Chagney's fiancee was not one of his usual choices. She was a lady, polite and well educated, not the superficial model he usually kept hanging on his arm. This was a demure and innocent woman that obviously had no idea the depth of feeling she possessed. She had no idea a passionate creature lay sleeping beneath the surface, and Erik would be only too pleased to release her darker nature.

At that moment he began his search into who she was and how Chagney had lured her into an engagement. In one month he knew everything about Christine Daae's life and the contract she had entered into with Chagney. He knew she had given up her social life to care for her terminally ill mother. When her mother passed she had a short four months before her father learned of his lung cancer. Right after the diagnosis, Chagney had lawyers draw up a contract ensuring her father would receive a place in a clinical trial for cancer treatment, but only if she agreed to marry him and fulfill her duties as a senator's wife.

Christine would have done anything to save the last of her family, including trading her own life. If nothing else she could be trusted to uphold her end of a bargain in order to save her father's life. This was how he could seek his revenge upon Chagney and gain a chance at a glimmer of happiness in his life. It took another month to get his plan in motion.

Erik had a gift for foresight. He planned everything to the last detail. He planned a grand fundraiser for the numerous political figures in the area and made sure to invite Chagney. It would only be a matter of time before Christine would seek reprieve in the shadows of Erik's entertainment home. When she slipped away, Nadir, his guard and friend would send in the models hired to distract Chagney. Unlike his fiancee, Chagney had never consented to being a devoted husband, no, he would never quit his philandering. He enjoyed it too much.

It was simple then, once Christine was separated from the pack, to lure her away. Erik was a very accomplished gentleman and had a secretive history to his fortune, one that had heavily relied on his talents as a hypnotist. Knowing that she had not known a man's touch in four years, he surmised that seduction and gentle suggestion would be enough to twist her to his will. However he had not expected the effect touching her would have on himself.

Every touch, every kiss, was torture in and of itself. He was a solitary man who had learned not to trust women. He had been in self-imposed abstinence for nearly seven years after Blair- the source of his anger and lust for retribution. He felt his control slipping with every sigh and moan, but could not help himself. It was her return to consciousness that helped return his calm.

He knew she would say yes to proposal and was prepared to ensure a swift escape. If he knew Chagney as well as he thought he did, the fool would have likely snuck off with the attractive models in order to satisfy the appetites his fiancee had been unwilling to fulfill. Appetites she was all too willing to satisfy for Erik, which pleased him even more.

Erik could have never guessed that her passionate nature lay so close to the surface. Every gentle brush of skin against skin made her flush and struggle to keep from moaning. It was only after the marriage by Judge Richard Firmin, that she began to panic. It was his fault, of course, as he had stopped his gentle suggestion in his distraction of ensuring their paperwork was all in order. Once everything was signed she would be Christine Tolbert and safely under his control. It would be as if Christine Daae had disappeared over-night. It would afford them enough time to ensure Chagney had no chance of regaining control of her, and provide them ample time to develop a bond.

Once he had returned to his seduction, deepening the hold he had on her psyche. That is, he had returned to his attempt at seduction only to find his wife- driven wild with desire- doing her best to seduce him. She didn't have to try hard. He was certainly willing to have an attractive woman completely under his control try to force herself on him.

She was desperation personified and he couldn't help but chuckle at her needy grasps and lusty moans. His gentle squeezes encouraged her and lulled her into a sense of security. Her lips left his and she began to kiss his jaw under the edge of his white porcelain mask. She nipped his ear and he growled his approval. She was a wild one indeed, perhaps too wild. Her lack of control made it increasingly harder to maintain his own careful restraint. Seven years was too long to be alone. Erik could not trust himself with his beautiful bride just yet. He ignored the evidence of his desire that was barely held encased in black pants. He didn't want to regret their first coupling.

_Pulse_.

"Christine you must stop," she paused her sucking at his throat, "You need to rest, we have a long journey ahead."

_Pulse_.

Her head rested on his shoulder. From her slowed breathing he knew she had fallen asleep. As gently as he could he leaned her back against the plush car seat and replaced her clothing as best he could. Thank God for the privacy glass he had installed between the driver and passenger seats. Christine had managed to shimmy the top half of her dress down around her waist. Erik did not plan on allowing anyone else to see what was now his- friend or foe.

Nadir was a trusted friend from his military contract days. They had saved each others lives too many times to count. It was Nadir who had pushed him to find a woman that could make him happy. He had been instructing him to do this for years, but Erik had felt no desire for anyone until Christine. Even though he trusted Nadir and his intentions explicitly, he was not about to let him see his bride in any state of undress. Erik was determined to ensure Christine was his and his alone and the thought of another's eyes upon what was his filled him with a jealousy he hadn't felt in many years. When they switched cars for the longer portion of the journey to his secluded home in the Rocky Mountains, Nadir stopped him before they separated.

"What are your intentions with this girl?" Always the one to make sure Erik was making "good" decisions, Nadir was never afraid to question his actions.

"Does it matter?" Erik let out a deep laugh, but stopped when he saw his Persian friend was serious. "I married her didn't I?"

Nadir had been married for 20 years and had a handsome son to prove it. He only ever wanted Erik to find the same love. He was an ardent believer that love would heal Erik's heart as it had his own. Nadir held the institution in very high in his opinion and did not like the idea that his friend might be making a mockery of it.

"Is she just some toy for you or are you hoping to convince her to love you?"

"What do you think?" Erik sneered, he did not want to be lectured at this moment. As far as he was concerned she was his only chance at happiness. Forcing her to marry him was the only way he could have ever trusted a woman not to betray his trust. Blair had shown him that no woman could be trusted to truly love a man with a face like his.

"Please, my friend," Nadir placed his hand on Erik's shoulder, "You will never know if she really loves you if you keep her under your suggestion." He was no fool to Erik's methods, they had no secrets between them, even if Erik thought otherwise.

Erik did not reply, simply got into his black SUV and drove off with his wife resting in the back seat. Nadir stared after the car and said a silent prayer. _Allah, let her love him_.


	4. Chapter 4

_It took me a while to get this one done, it's quite a bit longer. Enjoy! PS- loving the reviews! Thanks guys._

The drive to Erik's cabin was long and tortuous. With his help, Christine slept continuously for the journey. He needed her calm at peace upon their arrival and it seemed the only way was to keep her asleep. Unfortunately this afforded him too much time to think.

Nadir's words kept repeating in his mind. _You will never know if she really loves you if you keep her under your suggestion_. He was right, of course. Erik would never be able to trust her feelings were true if she remained under his control. However, he couldn't help feeling like he would lose her if he stopped his hypnotism. He told her she need only keep their vows for one year, but he wanted her eternal love and devotion. He needed it.

It wasn't as if he had done anything to suggest she develop feelings for him yet. No, he had made quite certain to lay the nature of the arrangement out clearly. He had wanted her to choose him on her own. He needed to know that she didn't want Chagney. He simply made it easier for her by proving he could satisfy her in ways Chagney never could.

Thoughts of their brief touches would float back to him. She tasted like honey and had the softest skin he had ever touched. The mere thought of her soft milky skin being offered to him in her moments of blind desire made him ache. He wanted to do unspeakable things to her. He wanted to tear her apart, to bruise her body only to soothe away the ache, to steal her innocence and bare her soul. He wanted to make her ache for his brutal touch and beg for more.

_Could anyone as sweet as Christine ever invite such advances?_ His doubts clouded his judgement. _Is there some way I could lure her in without using suggestion?_ He glanced over at his bride. She looked so delicate in that moment. Her blonde hair had come completely undone and curls cascaded down her supple flesh. There was a bruise on her shoulder from where he had bitten her, and her lower lip was swollen and bruised making her lips look even more inviting.

Her make-up was almost nonexistent and her raw beauty shone bright. He almost hated her for being so beautiful. _How could an angelic creature like herself have any true desire for a monster like him?_ He knew then that he would have to stop his suggestion. He needed to know she desired him. There could be no true love between them if she did not and he needed her love. He would give their relationship one month to develop, after that her decision would decide his fate. He would not torture himself any longer than he absolutely needed to.

Their arrival at his secluded cabin filled him with anxiety. He carefully lifted her out of the car and carried her over the threshold. He lay her on the heavy twill bead spread of his Queen bed. Her midnight blue dress pooled out onto the cream twill. He noticed then how thin and fragile she looked. He could count her ribs through her dress. _That will not do_. He took a deep breath and sighed his anger away. _How had Chagney not noticed his fiancee was wasting away? He probably preferred her this way- visibly weakened by his ownership_. Erik returned to the car and removed the groceries and the one suitcase packed with all a lady could need.

Erik immediately set about making dinner. He was not about to let his bride waste away as she had under another man's care. Provencal chicken with roasted potatoes, a dish certain to wake her with delicate aromas as well as fill her belly. An unbidden image of Christine's delicate frame swollen with his child flew into his mind and made him pause. Did he even want children? Could his children be born deformed as he was?

"This is foolish." He said shaking his head, as if he could remove the image by force.

"What is?" A soft whisper came from behind him. He turned to find Christine wiping the sleep out of her eyes in the doorway of the bedroom. He ignored her question.

"You're awake." He noted before turning to open a bottle of wine.

"I thought I was still dreaming." She hugged herself, the house had a chill that was working its way into her bones. "It's cold."

Erik turned and looked her up and down. He had no doubt the cool air of the cabin was making her cold. Her dress barely hid her body beneath what little soft fabric the dress was made with. He could hardly stifle the groan that threatened to emerge as his eyes became fixed on her breasts whose chill-hardened nipples revealed themselves through the chenille. She flushed at the hunger in his eyes. He looked so ruggedly handsome. He had changed into a purple flannel shirt and jeans and his chin bore a heavy shadow from the hair that had begun to grow there. He was certainly dressed to match the surrounding wood and stone that made up a modest cabin.

"I apologize, I will start a fire as soon as dinner is finished." He quickly turned his back to her, trying to hide the evidence of his arousal that had returned at the sight of her blush. "There is a suitcase by the door that contains clothes for you."

She peeked over at the door and noticed the suitcase. _Her husband really does think of everything._ She grabbed the bag and began to drag it into the bedroom- _the only other room_, she noted. She turned to shut the door, but lingered. He was going to see her naked sooner or later, so was there any reason to bother? Part of her wanted him to look. She wanted him to see all of her. She wanted someone to see her.

A solitary tear slipped out and made a trail down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away and shut the door. She slipped out of the dress letting it pool at her ankles. She let the cold envelop her. She felt so alone sometimes. When she was younger her parents were all she had. When her mother became ill, her only boyfriend dumped her. It hurt to lose the only support she had and it only made it harder when her mother passed.

Now she was completely alone. It had been six months since Raoul had allowed her to see her father. She missed him so much it made her heart ache. It was too much sometimes. How could one person be strong enough to carry the weight of the world on their back? Her father had become the only support she had. For four months they cried on each others shoulders. For four months it was them against the world. In the course of one day, their army of two had become an army of one. She wanted someone to be there for her. Didn't she deserve love? She may have men clamoring to marry her, but none of them love her. She doubted they could even see her behind their own intentions.

She began to shiver from the cold, distracting her from her loneliness. She unzipped the suitcase and it almost burst open. He had packed it to the brim with sensible clothes. Underneath the pile of clothes was a toiletries bag filled with everything she used. This man really did know everything about her. She looked around the small log room and realized the second door was not for a closet, but a bathroom. It was simple, a shower, a sink and a toilet. There was no mirror, just the bare necessities. Not exactly what she pictured for a rich eccentric.

Christy took a quick shower. Very quick as there was no hot water. After her ice bath, she quickly bundled herself up. Jeans topped with a pale blue tunic and a grey sweater. The clothes were beautiful and fit perfectly. She looked at her ring- Erik's mother's ring. _I wonder what her name was_. She hoped his mother was a good person. She hoped she could make Erik happy. She hoped she could make this marriage the real thing.

When she left the bedroom she found a blazing fire and a hearty meal awaiting her, but Erik was no where to be seen. She took the opportunity to look around the modest cabin. Wood logs stacked high made up the four walls encasing the large room containing the living room, dining room and kitchen. The stone island was the only structure separating the space. The whole cabin spoke to a minimalist lifestyle she hardly expected from a rich man.

The cabin had just enough of everything to be comfortable. There was a solitary leather couch facing the fireplace, a small dining table with two chairs behind the front door, one chair perched at the island, and the tiniest kitchen she had ever seen. Then it dawned on her, this was a bachelor pad! This was a home for one and only one. It had everything a bachelor could need and nothing more. No wonder he had no closet, he probably didn't need one. There weren't even any decorations beyond necessities. There were candles and candlesticks, black-out curtains, and one picture frame.

Christy walked over to the fireplace and picked the picture off of the mantle. It was a black and white photo of a dark haired beauty. She had beautiful grey eyes that sparkled through the image and a great white smile. Christy imagined the woman with lightly tanned skin as if some mediterranean queen with light colored eyes. She could only hope this was Erik's mother and not an ex. She certainly couldn't compete against the dark allure of this beauty.

That was how Erik found Christine, cradling the last image of his mother. He had retrieved more firewood from outside the cabin. Covered in dirt and bits of wood, he entered the cabin with his pile of wood only to be stopped by his bride. Her hair hung limp and wet, but she looked gorgeous in the clothes he had purchased for her. She glanced at him, immediately blushing and apologizing for being in his way. When he released his burden in the basket near the fire, he dared a glance at her. She was clutching his mother's image to her bosom and her eyes glowed with unspoken need. He quickly looked away. She awoke a lust in him that he could barely control.

Not daring to look at her again, he suggested they begin dinner before the food grew any colder than it already had. They were sitting for mere moments before she blurted out her questions. "Was that a picture of your mother? Was she nice?" He could feel her blue eyes on him, but he couldn't bare to meet them. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable without the mask on?"

Erik paused with a spoonful of potatoes in midair. "You should eat." He grumbled out before his hand continued on its path to his plate.

Christy looked at the food and her stomach growled at the thought of a hot meal. She could hardly control herself. She stabbed a piece of chicken and barely got it to her plate before she was shoving big mouthfuls in her mouth. She sighed in pleasure as the flavor of the moist chicken burst on her tongue. It took only a couple minutes for her to finish the chicken and then she was scooping roasted potatoes, asparagus and carrots onto her plate. In between bites she would let out moans of appreciation and whispered about how delicious the meal was.

Erik could only smile smugly at her response. He was an excellent cook and had received great lessons from his mother when they lived in France. However, he had never been paid such enthusiastic compliments. Nor had he had such a lovely creature to cook for. He couldn't resist gloating that he was better than Chagney in another aspect of his care for Christine.

"Did Chagney never feed you?" He half chuckled, staring at his food. He had only a bite or two because his stomach was churning in his anxiety of how to proceed with the lovely woman in front of him. He didn't feel ready to tackle her questions, but he didn't know how to deflect her attention.

Unknown to Erik, his question embarrassed her. "I'm so sorry! You must think I have terrible manners!" She gushed, her cheeks rosy with shame.

"I didn't mean it like that." Erik began apologizing profusely realizing he had offended her. He met her eyes for the first time since they sat down. She looked like she was ready to start crying with her red cheeks and water brimmed eyes. He reached across the table, took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I didn't mean to suggest any fault of yours. In fact, my intention was to determine what your treatment had been like under Chagney's care."

"Oh," Christy's eyes looked to their hands. His hand was so warm and it cradled her own cold thin fingers. She didn't want to talk about Raoul. She wanted to pretend Raoul never existed, that the last few months never occurred. There was no denying it, he would no doubt ask her more questions about him and their engagement.

"It wasn't that he didn't feed me, simply that should I want to eat I had to join him at the dinner table." She sighed thinking about how she hated being Raoul's play toy. "I told him I would play the dutiful wife in public, but I would be damned if I did it in privacy." She glanced at Erik and saw his smirk. "I avoided any meals he would be able to attend. After a couple of months, he gave up, but by then my appetite had left me." His smirk faltered at her admission, and she removed her hand from his. Hugging herself for courage, she revealed to herself as well as Erik the truth she had never admitted, "I wanted to die."

Erik stood so fast that the action threw his oak chair back against the door. His thunderous steps, though few sent tremors of fear up her spine. She couldn't help flinching away from him when he suddenly grabbed her arm and drew her up against his hard body. She was stiff as a board when he wrapped his arms around her, cocooning her in his warmth. He rested his chin in her slightly damp hair.

The feeling of his deep, sure breaths lulled her, and she relaxed against him. The warmth of him enveloped her and chased away her fears. "I really want this to work." She whispered against his chest, nuzzling deeper. For a moment she was afraid she had angered him with her admission. Now that she was cradled in his arms, she knew his anger was directed towards Raoul. She hardly knew Erik, but in his arms, she felt like the most precious jewel. It had been so long since she had been hugged. It felt good. Better than it ever had.

Christine pulled away from the embrace just enough so that she could look at her husband. He looked down and his eyes softened their gaze. She wriggled her right arm free and raised it to cup his scruffy jaw. Her thumb traced the edge of his mask. When she spoke again, her voice was fragile, strained by the emotions welling up. "Can I see you?" Her thumb dipped under the mask...


	5. Chapter 5

_Still trucking along. Thanks for all the reviews!_

Erik was consumed by rage when he realized the treatment his bride suffered at the hands of another. It was no wonder that she was so skinny! How long had she gone without food before Chagney even noticed her suffering? He couldn't help himself, he wanted to murder Chagney, but the look of vulnerability in Christine's face diverted his attention long enough to keep from flying into a rage. Instead of throwing the furniture against the walls, he pulled her out of her chair and crushed her delicate frame to his.

Deliberately slow breaths escaped him as he tried to keep control of his temper. The creature in his arms felt so frail against his own solid frame. He feared if he squeezed her any tighter that she would shatter. There was something about Christine that brought out the best and worst in him. He would destroy anyone that tried to harm her, but he wanted to tear her apart himself. The dichotomy was delicious.

"I really want this to work." Her soft voice broke the silence. Erik remained perfectly still fighting to keep control even though a part of him wanted to throw her on the floor and rip her clothes off. She pulled back to look at him and he matched her gaze. He would make sure she was his in every way.

_It would be so easy to take her now._ He noted, seeing the vulnerability and adoration in her eyes. _Take her now, and reveal the truth when it's too late._ He could use her vulnerability against her, bending her to his whim without hypnosis. Which was worse? His internal battle was interrupted as she began to deliciously wriggle in his arms. He stifled a groan as he felt a hand slither up his chest to his cheek.

Her thumb stroked his jaw and it soothed his darker nature. It had been nearly ten years since anyone had touched his face. It stirred an unfamiliar feeling in his chest, something from a memory long since passed. His mind wandered and chased the memory, distracting him from the approaching danger.

"Can I see you?" Her voice was sharp with emotion and drew him back into the moment. Something felt wrong. Her thumb. Her thumb was under the mask. _The mask!_

His hand was on hers faster than she could blink. She whimpered as he crushed her fingers, but he ignored her and adjusted his mask. When he looked at her again she winced away from his eyes. The rage, barely controlled, revealed itself through those green orbs. He squeezed her hand a little harder and she fell to her knees. Erik's crushing grip only eased when she was on the floor with her head hanging down.

"Never touch the mask." His voice was deceptively calm. As livid as he was, he released her hand.

"I just wanted to-" Her voice sounded pitiful, even to her.

"No one sees me without the mask." Gentle fingers lifted her chin until she met his gaze. "I don't want to hurt you, but you will be punished if you try this again. Is that understood?" His eyes were hard and she couldn't fight the tears that were welling up.

She had felt beneath the mask for a short moment, but it was enough time to feel what he was hiding. Scars. The slick, bumpy flesh covered his left cheek and Christy had to assume the rest of his face. Why else wear such a large mask? No wonder he flew into a rage when she tried to reveal him. Her hand ached but she understood.

Christy nodded her assent, but couldn't stop the tears from falling down her cheek. What had Erik been through in his life to leave him marked like this? What had he been through since being scarred?

Erik felt himself harden at the sight before him. A beautiful angel kneeling at his feet with tears streaking her cheeks. "Are you crying for me, _mon ange_?" He asked with a smirk. Christine nodded again. He squatted down and turned her head. With one long lazy lick, he traced her tears up her cheek before placing a kiss on her temple.

The feeling of his tongue on her cheek was oddly intimate. She stifled a gasp and remained still, afraid he was still mad at her. She let her eyes drift closed when he placed a lingering kiss on her temple. When his lips left her, she suddenly felt alone. Her eyes opened and found that he had disappeared. She shifted to stand to look for him when his voice boomed from behind her.

"Do not move." He returned to her as silently as he had left. He lifted her throbbing right hand and wrapped it in an ice pack. He fell to one knee beside her, still holding her hand. "You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." He whispered before kissing her cheek. He dragged his lips to hers, placing several gentle kisses there.

Christy remained perfectly still. Erik was so changeful, she wasn't quite sure what to expect one minute to the next. The burn of the ice on her hand was a reminder of just how quick his temper was, but his soft lips spoke volumes of how kind and caring he could be. His kisses weren't an apology, they were an attempt to soothe her. She wanted to be mad at him, he had hurt her, but she couldn't deny the tingling sensation spreading up her spine with each kiss.

When Christine's lips spread in invitation, Erik couldn't help but growl before dipping into her warmth with his tongue. She was delicious. He could tell she was being cautious, but at least she was accepting his advances. This wasn't like their first wildly passionate kisses. This was a kiss in the midst of vulnerability. It was gentle and comforting. It didn't ask for forgiveness, but for acceptance. It was a kiss between two injured individuals finding healing in each other.

Christy stopped their languid kiss with a hand on his chest. There was something about Erik that blurred the lines of right and wrong. He had hurt her in anger. She would have never abided this, but she knew he was justified. She needed to be alone, she needed to think about what had happened and decide how she really felt about the evening before they went any further.

"Erik, please, I- I need to be alone." Her voice was a whisper against his lips.

A chill ran up his spine at her words. She was pulling away, and it was his own fault. He wanted to argue, to force her to stay with him, to work out whatever issues she had with him, but he knew it would be best to give her space. They had plenty of time for him to win her back. What was one night?

Erik nodded and helped Christine stand. He escorted her to the bedroom, "I will leave you to your privacy until you are ready."

She didn't look back at him, but asked, "Where will you sleep?"

"The couch will suit me just fine." Erik had hoped to spend their first night as a married couple in the same bed, but he had ruined that. When she shut the door without meeting his eyes, he wanted to punch himself. This was all his fault. They were making great strides and he ruined it all in a fit of anger.


	6. Chapter 6

_Sorry this took so long, I was having a hard time figuring out how to continue. I have rewritten this chapter 3 times, so I hope you like this one._

When the door clicked shut, Christy leaned against the door and looked at her hand. It was sore, but there was no bruising. She shut her eyes and sighed. This was all so overwhelming. Their whole relationship had been one mad dash that left her head spinning. She moved to lay down on the bed, resting on her back and staring at the timber ceiling. The sun had gone down and the bedroom was lit by the twilight. Under the door a streak of light from the other half of the cabin seeped into the room. Just like Erik seeped into her mind.

_What were those scars from?_ She wondered silently. _Were the scars any worse than the rage Erik holds within himself?_ _No._ In fact, Christy could have cared less how scarred her husband was. Their marriage was not one formed out of love, but Christy had hoped that love could bloom between them. Handsome or not, he was her husband and she would do her best to encourage fondness between them regardless of his looks.

It was the anger that scared her. Erik had such a kindness to him that spoke to her heart. It was his gentle kisses, his attempts to soothe her and give her strength that had spoken to her heart. it was his softer side that she was already developing a fondness- dare she think it, a love- for. He had done so much for her, a stranger- _not out of the goodness of his heart_, she reminded herself. No, he had been kind to her and provided her a chance at happiness in order to hurt his enemy.

_Could she even trust that any of his actions of kindness had been for her? No_. Then all that was left was a dark, changeful man. A man who was manipulative and vindictive, and would do anything to get what he wants. A man she could barely resist. While his softer side wooed her heart, his darkness awoke something within her that frightened her. It was an uncontrollable desire, a wildness that wanted to be free and wanted to run wild with him.

His actions this evening were wrong. The wildness within Christy wanted to rage at him; to yell and scream and pour the anger from her entire life into him. She wanted to stoke the darkness within him until he brought her under control again. That thought made a fire grow within her. Her belly warmed and her skin tingled. _What is going on with me?_

Christy had lived a very restrained life. She had been her parents' darling little girl. When the other kids branched out and experienced life on their own terms, she devoted herself to helping her parents and helping children. She never stopped being the darling little girl. Her one attempt at experiencing something wild with her ex boyfriend was an uncomfortable mess. Her life was not one of passion, but one of duty and responsibility. That is until Erik walked into her life. There was something about him, something that made her want to forsake everything for just one word, one look, one sinful touch. Now that she knew him, she couldn't leave him if she tried.

She was tired of being everything for everyone. Tired of being the perfect little girl, the prim and proper young woman, the quiet teacher, the nurse. She had gone so far she had even been willing to sell herself to a man to ensure her father would get medical treatment. The first thing she had ever done for herself was fleeing with Erik. She had ensured her father would remain safe and under care, but she had also ensured that she would not spend the rest of her life tied to that bastard Raoul.

This was the first time Christy had ever been so mad. She had never allowed herself to be mad before, she had simply pushed her own feelings aside and remained a dutiful daughter. She deserved to be herself, to feel her feelings, to choose happiness. So what if they had no love between them? They were married and both were committed to the marriage. She wanted Erik to keep peeling away her layers, revealing the self she had never known. He might be using her to get back at Raoul, but she could just as easily use him to discover who she was.

_Oh God, maybe all this is wrong? What am I thinking? What would my father think? What would my mother think? This is just a big mistake. Ugh, what am I thinking? I don't want to use him. We're married, I shouldn't try to use him. But he is using me. So it's just mutually beneficial at that point. I'll just tell him. Lay it all out. What man is upset about their wife asking them to awaken passion in them? Besides, this is business. It's marriage, but one arranged for business, not for love._

"_You are the only woman I will ever marry."_ His voice echoed through her mind. Maybe he wants to love her or for her to love him? _"Are you crying for me_, _mon ange?" _His lips were so soft, so insistent. She had always wanted a marriage built on love, but could certainly live happily if he kissed her like that every day. There was something about those last kisses that made it feel like together they could find wholeness.

Christy sighed and turned onto her side. She needed to stop thinking about this. No matter what, she simply was not willing to end their marriage. She would be laying down some rules of her own tomorrow. Their marriage may not have been born from love, but she was still convinced there was a lot of opportunities for something good to come of it. _Tomorrow is a new day, and it will be a fresh start._

The new couple slept fitfully, both haunted by their insecurities. Erik awoke before the sun rose and set about cleaning the cabin. He wanted to pretend like yesterday hadn't happened and did his best to remove all evidence of the previous night's occurrences. When the room was suitably cleaned, he returned to the kitchen and made a heavy breakfast of bacon, eggs and waffles. His heart leapt when he heard the shower turn on. Christine was awake.

After a cold shower, Christy took a moment to look at her reflection. She eyed her visage with a sturdy gaze. Was she really ready to make a stand? She would have to be. To have any chance at happiness she would have to face Erik and stand up for herself. She needed to lay down some ground rules for their relationship. She also needed to learn more about her husband and his scars. It didn't take long for Christy to get dressed, but it took her several minutes to calm her nerves. Her time was up when she heard a rapping on the door.

"Christine? I made breakfast if you'd like to join me." He sounded odd to her ears, it wasn't the strong commanding tone she had grown accustomed to. He sounded nervous. _Who would have thought I could make him nervous?_

Christy opened the door and found Erik dressed in the same clothes from the night before. He looked deflated, his shoulders were slumped and his hair was disheveled. It was then, she realized how much power she had over him. Her confidence bloomed with that knowledge. _I can do this_. Without a word she strode past him to the table and took her seat. Erik sighed a breath he didn't realize he had been holding before joining her. He had no idea what to say to her and he was terrified she was going to ask for a quick release from their marriage. He turned and saw she had already loaded her plate, but sat patiently and waited for him to build his own plate. Just as he took his seat she spoke.

"I want to set some rules before we go any further with...this." She stated gesturing to the two of them. He couldn't help but look at her in shock. _Does she want to stay with me?_

Before he could speak, she continued, "Rule number one, no one touches the other out of anger." He couldn't help but flinch at her words. He understood her anger, but her words reopened wounds of self hate and disgust he had been picking at all night.

"Agreed." He replied solemnly, dropping his eyes so as not to meet her gaze. "I cannot apologize enough for my actions last night. They were uncalled for." He glanced at her impassive face looking for some sign of her feelings. She ignored him and continued.

"Rule number two, you are the only one that can remove the mask." Erik nodded his thanks. She was telling him she accepting his apology and understood why he reacted the way he did. "Rule number three, we never go to bed angry at each other." Erik couldn't breathe, was she planning on sharing a bed with him tonight?

"Last night was awful, and I'd rather we not repeat that experience again." The look in her eyes was one he hadn't seen in her before. She had seemed so delicate before, but now there was a fire in her, the one he saw the night of the opera. "Do you have anything to add?"

"Does this mean we are going to pretend last night never happened?" The return of his confidence was evident by the return of his voice. Christy took a bite of egg, taking her time to enjoy the food before answering. Truthfully, she was stalling until she had answer, but she enjoyed seeing him squirm in his chair waiting for her to answer.

"No." She set her fork down and smoothed the invisible wrinkles on her pants. "No, I have made my peace with last night. However, if you ever touch me in anger again, I will leave." She couldn't bring herself to look him in the eyes. If she did, she knew he would be able to tell she was lying about leaving.

The two returned to their breakfasts and ate in silence. Neither knew how to continue with the morning. Erik had hoped to have spent the first few days in the cabin confined to the bedroom, doing little talking. It had taken all of Christy's confidence to say what she did, and was now unable to muster enough confidence to ask him anything about his past. Silently the dishes were washed and the two sat and enjoyed two cups of french press coffee.

"I prefer tea." She finally squeaked out. Erik couldn't help himself and burst out laughing. She wasn't sure what was so funny, but his laughter was infectious and soon they were both giggling.


End file.
